Decontrol
by Raiast
Summary: Formly Believe it or Not. She knew who she was...who didn't? It was something instinctive instilled at birth. Yet here he stood, telling her that everything she believed about the last 18 years of her life was a lie.
1. Dark Times

"Finally taking off, Gin?"

The girl in question frowned playfully. "What—don't want me here anymore?"

"Just that you've officially been on duty for—how long was it, Marlene?"

Marlene didn't look up from her magazine, "Thirty-seven hours."

"Thirty-seven hours!" the receptionist continued. "I love you, Gin, but for Merlin's sake—Go home and get some sleep!"

Ginevra Weasley smiled at her friend's concern. "And wouldn't you know it, Andrea, I'm not even tired. Actually I think I'll stop off at the 24/7 for a drink before I go home."

The 24/7 was a bar located just two blocks from St. Mungo's. Its name plainly stated that it was open all day, every day. When it had first opened, many were skeptical of the idea, however, the bar was able to stay in business due to the alcoholics and the St. Mungo's night shift crew that frequented it. Ginny Weasley had been stopping there every morning after work for a straight glass of fire whiskey and a Butterbeer chaser for almost a year, when she had first begun her night shifts as a mediwitch.

"Is someone going with you?" Andrea asked. She frowned when Ginny shook her head no. "You're not walking, are you?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, scoffing at the girl. "It's two blocks! We _always_ used to walk it!"

The blonde's features grew grim. "Times are different now, Ginny, you know that," whether it was conscious or not Ginny didn't know, but her friend's voice dropped dramatically lower as she leaned forward over the counter. "They're _everywhere_ now."

Ginny _did_ know this to be true—how many people had come in after being attacked only blocks from the hospital in the last week alone? Times _were_ different—the Death Eaters were running rampant on the streets, doing whatever they pleased—and why shouldn't they? There was no one to stop them: the Order was losing members left and right (Ginny was beginning to suspect that the secret group wasn't so secret, as the most prominent of their members were being picked off one by one)—even the Ministry, to which everyone was supposed to look for guidance, had fallen apart.

There was no organization, no form of government at all, and, as could be expected, the Wizarding World was in complete and utter chaos. It was, most literally, every man for himself, and everyone seemed to be focusing on _that_ philosophy rather than attempting to unite against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

It was hitting hard at home as well—Ginny's father rarely slept, her mother was in constant tears of worry for her children, and Harry had about reached the end of his rope. Ginny, after being denied membership to the Order by her parents, was attempting to live as much of a normal life as she could under the circumstances, and succeeding rather well, it seemed. But, of course, as it always is and always will be: all good things must end. It was when and how this would happen that Ginny lost sleep over—no one understood how she could work such insane hours but the answer was obvious: she was an insomniac, plain and simple.

Despite her stubborn and brave personality (thank you, Gryffindor!) Ginny soon found herself losing face in front of her friends. Though she assured them the two block walk would be completely harmless, a dark, foreboding feeling was washing over her—one that she couldn't easily shake. She stepped out into the early morning, taking a deep breath of the crisp, cool air and sighing.

As she began walking she found that, surprisingly, her legs were very sore from her extreme shift. Things like that went unnoticed at work as she was always moving about and taking care of patients. Though her legs were weary, however, Ginny's mind was wide awake (thanks partially to the cool air) despite the very little sleep she was running on.

It was due to her sharp mind that she noticed it right away—a set of footsteps behind her. She knew that there would be a few people out at this time, the next wave of workers for the five to ten shift at the hospital, lingering alcoholics, stumbling out of and around the 24/7; but these footsteps were too precise to be a drunk, and had followed her too far to be any mediwitch or doctor. She didn't even dare to crane her head around to check who it was, because as she was considering doing this, she saw a shadow slipping into the dark alley not fifteen feet in front of her.

_It's to be a trap then_, Ginny thought, her heart racing. _Let them try_. She shook her right arm discreetly, causing her wand, which was always attached loosely to her forearm when she was out, to slide down into her hand. Careful to keep it in her robes and out of view, Ginny kept on as if she hadn't even noticed.

She held her breath as she neared the alley, and let it out slowly with relief when nothing happened when she passed it. Five seconds later she realized there were now _two_ sets of footsteps behind her—which wouldn't have been _so_ odd, except for the fact that they were both perfectly in sync with one another. She had been thinking about this and not focusing on the path in front of her, when, as she passed by the next dark alley, a set of hands shot out and took a hold of her.

Ginny, being taken by complete surprise, then did the stupidest thing imaginable: shocked and startled by the set of hands that now had a firm hold on her shoulders, Ginny's body convulsed in surprise, causing her wand to slip out of her hand and clank to the ground, rolling away in the opposite direction.

She had barely started to cry out when she was hit by a Silencing charm and yanked into the alley, just in time to see one of the Death Eaters that had been following her pick up her wand and grin. As the other two assailants followed them into the darkness, Ginny's heart started pumping again, filling her brain with adrenaline. She realized what was happening, and lashed out as hard as she could, struggling to break free of the tight circle they had formed around her.

And it worked—for two seconds. Ginny had somehow managed to wiggle out of the grasp on her shoulders and run into the Death Eater in front of her. Long, silvery blonde hair flowed out of his hood with the wind, and Ginny had just enough time to register that it was Lucius Malfoy who was slamming her against the brick wall.

For the first time in the last forty-eight hours, Ginny felt incredibly tired—but she doubted it had anything to do with the fact that the back of her neck was damp with the blood that was leaving her head.

---OoOoOoO---

"It _is_ her, isn't it?"

"That's the one," someone responded—it sounded like Lucius Malfoy.

_What do they want with me_? Ginny thought helplessly as their voices floated around inside her black mind. _I have nothing to offer them_. She tried to ignore the obvious fact that she was a woman, and had very much indeed to offer them—even _considering_ that as an option was making her feel sick. Voices got hazy, and somehow the darkness was swirling in front of her eyes, though she was mostly unconscious.

"Where'd that port-key go to?"

"It's here," a voice responded.

They were getting farther and farther away, though Ginny could vaguely feel arms under her armpits, partially holding her up. Then the world _was_ spinning—quite literally. As Ginny somehow forced her eyes to open just a little, she saw the Death Eaters in focus and the rest of the alley turning to a blur around them.

---OoOoOoO---

She was dreaming. She had to be. Ginny dreamed about waking up quite often, only to have someone attacking her or something bizarre happen. This must be one of those bizarre times, she had reasoned, because when her eyes began to open up slowly, she found Draco Malfoy sitting next to her bed.

She let her eyes drift closed again. _I don't even want to know where that one is going_, she thought. _Okay, Ginny, wake up.__ Wake up…now. Now! Wake UP!_

Ginny opened her eyes once again, looking around blearily. She was in the same room as the one in her dream, but upon looking to the right, she found no Draco Malfoy sitting there. Her head throbbed when she attempted to sit up, and she remembered all to easily that it was so because she'd had it bashed into a brick wall a couple of times by Lucius Malfoy. That's when it connected. That part wasn't a dream. She was taken by Death Eaters—so where was she?

Ginny admitted that she had never been imprisoned, or been in dungeons (other than the classrooms at Hogwarts), so she really didn't know _what_ a prisoner's cell would look like. Despite this, she quickly assumed that it was nothing like the room she occupied. _Rooms_ was really the more appropriate word, because upon looking about Ginny found that there was a bathroom to the left of her bed, and an opening in a sheet that gave way to a larger room on the right. There was a massive wardrobe on the opposite wall of her bed, along with a beautiful vanity and mirror. Craning her head around as much as she could without inducing the throbby feeling again, she could see a glimpse of bookshelves, and what appeared to be a desk through the slight gap in the fabric.

No; this was definitely _not_ a prisoner's cell—so what was it? Wasn't Ginny the captive here? She pondered that perhaps the dungeons were full up and there was no place else to put her, but dismissed that idea quickly. If that had been the case, they would have made room, stuck her with someone else, or simply chained her up outside somewhere, likely in a forest where werewolves or creatures of the like resided.

She forced herself to sit up, trying to shake off the headache (literally and only making it worse in the process). She was working on getting her limbs to move correctly so she could get out of bed (for, after having a brief "nap" after such a long shift, she found herself incredibly tired and groggy), when a pair of footsteps caught her attention. Before she could even _think_ to react, she was looking up at Lucius Malfoy once again. She noticed that his son was with him as well, and began wondering distantly if it _hadn't_ been a dream that he was sitting next to her bed—there _was_ a chair there, she noticed upon inspection.

Her brain slowly began to unfreeze when he spoke, though it still didn't seem to comprehend his words very well.

"What?" she found herself asking, confused and lost.

Malfoy Sr. took a deep breath (attempting to draw patience, it seemed, and failing) and repeated himself. "The Master wishes to see you."

She caught eyes with Malfoy—Malfoy Jr.—and found a strange look in them. The contempt for her was still there, she'd noticed right away, but there was something else lingering in his look also…surprise, it seemed. It looked as if he were attempting to look bored with the happenings but failing—something had severely caught his interest, and Ginny wondered what it could be. Did _he_ know why she was here?

When the words finally clicked in her brain, she found herself asking, "Why?" a split-second later.

Lucius seemed to grow even more impatient, while Draco seemed slightly amused. Without waiting for his reply (which she assumed would be a sharp one), Ginny swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. It took her a moment to find her balance, but she followed Lucius straight away, stumbling a bit at first, because the moment she had stood he had turned around and began walking away.

She didn't have time to look over the front room, or any of the books on the numerous bookcases, though she wished she did. Instead, she followed Lucius Malfoy out into what appeared to be the middle of a campsite—white tents surrounded her in every direction. Draco took off in the opposite direction, and she wondered vaguely where he was going before turning her attention back to her surroundings.

The white of all of the tents in the blazing sun would have been enough to blind Ginny, if it hadn't been for the striking contrast of all the black robes that were milling about.

Not just milling about, Ginny realized, but watching her. All of them, stopping whatever they were doing and watching _her_. Ginny could have screamed—she _hated_ not being in loop. She felt completely awkward walking around the enemy's camp as they all stared--Ginny wasn't the most graceful person in her family, and the more people looked at her the more likely she was to trip and fall on her face.

_Thud_. Whoops. She knew she shouldn't have let that thought enter her mind--she was constantly jinxing herself like that. Ginny stood, glared at the divet in the earth that had caused her to lose her stepping, and continued after Lucius quickly--whether he had noticed or not didn't seem apparant, because either way he hadn't stopped or slowed.

Odd thing was, Ginny didn't hear anyone laughing at her. Glancing about discreetly she studied their faces: they _did_ all look amused, but no one made it obvious that they had witnessed anything at all, which was very unsettling to her; her stomach gave a little twist and her heart started pumping faster. _What is going on here?_

After a few minutes (and a large number of Death Eaters later), Lucius came to a stop at one of the larger tents. It seemed to be in the exact center of the little campsite they had set up. Lucius slipped inside, muttered something and returned, motioning Ginny inside.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ginny stepped through the opening. _This is it_, she thought. _Maybe I'll get a few answers before I die_.

What she didn't realize, as she stood facing the most evil wizard alive, was that she would indeed recieve them, but Ginny wouldn't like or believe _any_ of Voldemort's answers.

---OoOoOoO---

Ahh, brilliance has struck again! Don't worry though, I will definitely be continuing Her Back to the Wall!

Please let me know--and do take a few stabs at where this is going--virtual cookies to the closest person!


	2. A World in Chaos

He didn't say anything for a moment, which was good and bad: Ginny didn't want to hear exactly what he was planning to do with her, but she always felt the need to break awkward silences—and standing in a room alone with Voldemort staring at her was most _definitely_ awkward...and_ terrifying_.

He studied her minutely, an inscrutable expression on his snake-like face before he finally murmured, "It's wearing off."

Ginny didn't know what "it" was, and didn't really want to know, so instead of asking what he meant by that she just endured the tense silence that filled the tent once more.

He looked at her once more before taking a seat in a plush-looking chair, motioning to the one across from it. _Am I just supposed to sit down_? She wondered. _What is this, tea time?_

"Please, sit," he requested, motioning again to the chair across from him. "I suppose you're wondering what you're doing here."

Ginny shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant as she sat, shifting about restlessly; under any other circumstance, the chair would have been so comfortable she could have fallen asleep. In Voldemort's presence, it felt lumpy and rigid. "Not really. More wondering why I'm not dead yet."

A small smile formed on his slit of a mouth. "I can assure you, if you were to be killed it would have happened already."

Ginny frowned. "Then, yes. What am I doing here?"

Voldemort's smile grew.

---OoOoOoO---

Ginny sat in the tent she had woken up in, her head held wearily in her hands. She felt like passing out and vomiting at the same time, which probably wasn't something that should happen. If it _were_ to happen, she hoped that she threw up first so she wouldn't drown. What a way to die: surrounded by Death Eaters and the most evil wizard alive and Ginny would die choking on her own puke.

A knock sounded as someone entered her tent. She didn't lift her head. "Who is it and what do you want?" she snapped, her voice slightly muffled by her hands.

"It's Draco Malfoy, Mistress Ginevra, and I—"

Ginny's head snapped up. "What did you just call me?"

Malfoy shifted, a strange look on his features. It was apparent that he felt _very_ awkward. "Mistress Ginevra? I just—"

Ginny gave a huff of amused laughter, taking a deep breath as she looked away and met his eyes again. By the look on his face, she knew that she had achieved the deadly serious look she was going for. "Don't call me that."

"What, uh," Malfoy shifted uncomfortably once again, "what would you like me to call you, ma'am?"

Ginny stared at him, an incredulous look etched across every inch of her face. "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, I'm younger than you are! And anyways it shouldn't much matter, should it? I wasn't aware that we were on speaking terms."

Malfoy glanced over his shoulder and took another step inside the tent. "Things are a bit different now, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am," Ginny snapped at him, her amusement with him turning quickly to annoyance. "Nothing has changed."

"With all due respect, I beg to differ."

A small smile appeared on Ginny's face. "So this is what it must be like for you—that _is_ really the only reason anyone "respected" you at all at school, am I right?" Ginny actually formed the quotation marks as she mocked him.

"I thought perhaps you would like to talk, go for a walk, maybe?"

This wasn't right…was Draco Malfoy actually _nervous_?

Ginny sighed. "I _could_ use some air," she stood and followed him out of the tent.

_"Eighteen years ago," _Voldemort had started.

_Not tea time, story time,_ Ginny had thought.

"Shall I just call you Ginevra, then?" Malfoy asked after a minute or so of walking through the tents in the cool night air.

"Ginny is fine," she replied.

He gave her a long, sideways look. "I'll just call you Ginevra."

_"It was eighteen years ago that I lost all of my powers, was stripped from my body, and forced to wander the Earth as something lower than a spirit."_

_"I know all this," Ginny interrupted. Voldemort ignored her._

"How are you coping with it then? I imagine it feels like something sort of a dream to you, doesn't it?" Malfoy asked after another long stretch of silence.

Ginny stared at the starry sky, meandering slowly, forcing Malfoy to slow his pace as well. "More of a nightmare."

"So—you're a Healer, then, eh?"

Ginny glanced away from the beautiful sky to Draco Malfoy's pale form, which glowed ethereally in the light of the full moon. "Are you trying to make small talk, Draco Malfoy?"

"But you're only eighteen," he continued, ignoring her comment. "And you're working at St. Mungo's. I thought one had to have at least a year of training…or are you just _that_ good?" he questioned, looking over at her and raising an eyebrow.

Ginny felt slightly amused and smiled. "My seventh year I asked Dumbledore if I could only take Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts so I could train with Madam Pomphrey for the year. With everything being so hectic and whatnot, I figured it would be smarter to save some time. I guess Dumbledore and Pomphrey felt the same way, because they allowed it, and St. Mungo's admitted me shortly after I left Hogwarts."

"You believe him though, right? I mean it definitely seemed like a stretch to _me_, but the evidence is all there…" apparently Malfoy wasn't very interested in how she had become a mediwitch.

Ginny sighed, wishing he would just shut up. If she were to be having _any_ conversation with Draco Malfoy, she didn't want it to be that one. "How can I? And how can I not?"

She looked up at the moon once again, wishing she could turn into a bat and fly away from all of this.

_"It was _nineteen_ years ago that I produced an heir, something only few of my followers knew at the time."_

_Ginny stared at him. "What does this have to do with me?"_

_Again, she was ignored as Voldemort continued, "Someone to carry on with my mission, to inherit my power, were anything to happen to me, though I never _really_ anticipated that anything would."_

They had come to a river that twisted through the campsite. Ginny sat down on the edge of the riverbank and Malfoy sat next to her in silence. Staring into the water, she could see a replica of the starry night sky. The moon shivered and settled once again as Ginny pulled up some grass and tossed it at the glassy surface.

_"But the ceremony couldn't be performed until my heir was one year of age, and so, my powers dissipated. When news reached the public, someone acted selfishly and took my heir—the mother had been obtained by Aurors and sentenced to life in Azkaban."_

_Ginny wondered vaguely what kind of twisted, desperate woman would sleep with Voldemort and bear his child._

_"My child was handed off to Albus Dumbledore, who placed a glamour on her and put her in a place where she would never learn the truth."_

_"I still don't understand why you're telling me all of this," Ginny interrupted, though her stomach was twisting ferociously inside her, and her mind got fuzzier the more he talked. She didn't like where this was going…_

_"My heir," Voldemort replied after a minute,_

"It's one of those things you just have to accept, you know? And why shouldn't you? Think of how everything will be! It's an amazing opportunity for you….to live a life you've always dreamed of?"

_"is you."_

"I never dreamed of being Voldemort's _daughter_," Ginny argued, staring him down. He shrugged after a minute and looked away.

_"No, a mistake has not been made. You _are_ indeed my daughter, Ginevra."_

_Ginny tried to close her mouth. She wanted to rebut his argument, but could find no words other than, "So who's my mother then?"_

---OoOoOoO---

Ginny didn't sleep that night. She laid in her plush bed, wide awake, listening to the wind howl around her tent.

_"It's wearing off," _he had said. At first Ginny hadn't understood, but as he told his story she had come to realize that he had meant the glamour that had been placed on her. _It's wearing off_.

She got up and moved over to the mirror on her ornate vanity, staring hard at her image, her eyes straining to see in the dark. Her hair was beginning to look more auburn than red, and the freckles that had once covered her entire face now only sprinkled her nose and cheekbones.

_Good riddance_, she thought. She had always despised her freckles. But as she stared into her dark eyes, which had once been a beautiful shade of rich brown, terror gripped her.

_I don't even know what I look like...or who I really am..._

Was it possible that she shared her parents' twisted, sadistic nature and hadn't even realized it?

_Can a glamour hide one's soul as well? _she contemplated. _Is that why I've never wanted to torture or kill something? And if so, what happens to my soul when the glamour is gone?_ She feared what she would become when the spell wore off completely.

Voldemort's daughter. The heir to his powers, the Death Eaters--everything. If that were true, it would mean that if Voldemort was killed, she would be in charge.

_If _she accepted the Dark Mark. Surely he wouldn't bestow his powers unto someone unless he was sure they would continue on with "the cause".

And if that were the case (though Ginny hoped she was strong and clever enough to resist this without being killed) that would mean that if Harry were to succeed, _she_ would have to oppose him.

There _might_ be a way to trick him into giving up his power without turning to the Dark Side...but _then_ what would she do? She could order the Death Eaters to stand down so she could set the Wizarding World right again, but it's not as if they'd even listen to her if she did.

In all likelihood they could raise up in a mutiny and kill her, and then _everyone_ would be screwed. What would happen to the powers _then_? Would they dissipate as they did before? Or would Voldemort be clever enough to think ahead this time and choose a second heir, in case Ginny didn't follow through after his death (that is, still, _if_ he could be killed. Ginny knew he was aiming for immortality, and wasn't quite sure how close he'd come).

_Damned if I do and damned if I don't_, Ginny thought in dismay, breaking her gaze away from her dark, cold eyes. _And I'll be damned if I'm not stuck between a rock and a hard spot on this one_.

Voldemort's daughter. The concept alone was enough to make Ginny grimace, and, though she wished she could fight this with all of her might, she found her case against them shrinking more and more with each piece of evidence they threw at her.

_Would he let me just walk away? Or would he stop me? Would he force me to join them? Or just kill me?_

"Where are you going?"

Ginny stopped walking and turned to the voice in the darkness behind her. Where _was_ she going? She hadn't even realized that she had left her tent. "What?"

Draco Malfoy sauntered towards her, hands in his pockets. "It's the middle of the night--where are you going?"

Ginny looked Malfoy up and down. "So if it's true then...about..._them_...you and I are--"

"Cousins," Draco supplied with ease. Clearly he had thought about that before.

"Hmm," Ginny looked him over once more. _Shame--_the thought had passed through her mind so fast that she wasn't even sure where it had come from.

"You _can_ go see him," he said after a minute of silence. "I know that's where you were going and it's okay--he doesn't sleep."

Ginny looked at Draco in silence for a minute before nodding. "I suppose he wouldn't need to," she contemplated after a minute.

"Do you remember the way?"

Ginny looked around her and shook her head. "No, actually. I was hardly aware that I was walking."

Draco nodded. "I know that feeling. Brain so full of muck that you can't even see what's around you--"

"--and what you _can_ see is all hazy and distorted," Ginny added breathlessly, taking a few steps towards him. "And the world is whizzing around you uncontrollably--"

"--and you're left standing still," he finished.

Ginny stared at him, hoping her expression didn't mirror the amazement she felt with him at the moment. "And at the same time everything is slow--"

"--like a dream--"

"--and everything has just sort of--"

"--lost its color," he finished for her.

Ginny nodded, her eyes stinging with tears. "Yeah."

Draco wore an equally intense expression. Ginny felt that he had just been looking into her soul--could he be feeling the same thing?

"It really scares you, doesn't it? The truth, I mean."

She pulled her eyes away from his and stared at the ground. "I just...don't want to be like...like _them_."

"Don't you?" Ginny looked up, and felt suddenly exposed--his eyes were searching her. "Are you sure about that?"

Ginny snorted. "Positive."

"Really?" Draco asked, mostly to himself because he never gave her a chance to answer. "Would you like me to take you there?"

Ginny stared blankly at him for half of a minute before realizing what he meant. "Would you? I want to get this over with so I can just go."

"You're leaving?" Ginny couldn't tell whether his voice was laced with interest or alarm.

"Well you can't expect me to just stay here forever, can you? I have a job--a whole _life--_back in London and I'd like to get back to it as soon as possible," Ginny decided that she just imagined the look of offense and disappointment that had flitted across Draco Malfoy's face.

"Well," he breathed when they had reached Voldemort's tent. "Good luck, then. I hope you get what you want," he turned and walked away before she could say anything more. Instead of thinking about his words, which seemed to echo distantly in her mind, she knocked on the door of the tent. (A/N: Yeah, confusing I know, but there has to be some way to request entrance--I mean you can't just walk on in to Voldy's tent and then ask to enter, pssh!)

He bid her entrance and enter she did, to find him standing over a large map of Wales. To her amusement, Voldemort had little figures of himself and his Death Eaters placed strategically around the area.

"Taking over Wales, eh?" Ginny studied the map with an eyebrow raised. "Don't you think that's a _bit_ ambitious?"

She looked up to find that an amused smirk had formed on that snake-like face of his, and was silently relieved that he had a sense of humor.

"Shouldn't you be starting with the rest of the Wizarding World before you start with the muggles?"

"What's left of the Wizarding World? The Ministry, in case you hadn't noticed, has already crumbled at the mere _thought_ of going up against me."

Ginny nodded, turning to the map once more--she didn't like looking at him. "I _had _noticed. Who couldn't? Our world is in complete chaos."

"Not _our_ world," Voldemort corrected. "Theirs, yes. They don't know _what _they want--someone to defend them or rule them--it can't be both, you know. They have no organization, no system at all. Their world is chaos, ours is not."

"They have the Order," Ginny whispered after a minute of thinking on his words. "And they're doing everything they can to stop you."

"And failing miserably, aren't they?" Voldemort's hand found Ginny's chin and raised it so that her eyes met his. "The Wizarding World doesn't need a secret organization, they need a leader--and that is exactly what I'm providing them with."

"They don't want that kind of leader," Ginny said softly, staring hard into evil, red eyes. She didn't know why she was arguing, but she hoped to Merlin that it wasn't making him angry.

"They'll take whatever kind of leader they can get," he spat. "Once we've finished off the Order of the Phoenix and squashed out the last of the rebellion, they'll be looking for someone to unite them--and that is exactly what I plan on doing."

Ginny pulled away and turned to the bookshelves, studying the books that occupied them, some of which looked pretty interesting. "You can't rule the world, it's not a viable goal."

"I can do anything," Voldemort stated softly after a minute of tense silence. "Even death could not stop me, it only delayed my plans."

"You can't kill Harry," Ginny closed her eyes, wishing she hadn't let that last little thought slip out. She turned, expecting to find him enraged and ready to punish, but he merely brushed her statement off with a wave of his hand.

"You did not come to me at one o'clock in the morning to discuss politics. Was there something you needed?"

She looked at him warily. "Just wanted to tell you that I'm going home. I have a job and life in London that's missing me right now. And I might be back...and, and I might not," she found her confidence growing and brought her chin up--she imagined she might look something like Malfoy when he was speaking to someone he considered below him.

"You'll come back," it wasn't a threat, but a fact. "But go, if you wish," he turned back to his map and his little figures, that, Ginny noticed, were now moving, acting out some kind of battle.

She turned, heading towards the door when his voice rang out behind her once more.

"Ginevra."

Ginny looked back at him, her hand resting on the doorknob.

"Know that you are always welcome here."

Ginny nodded and exited the tent. She looked around at the many tents that made up their little campsite. A small smile played on her lips._ The Order would just _love_ this_, she thought, studying her surroundings.

But somehow part of her knew that, for _some_ reason, she wasn't going to tell the Order about any of it.

_Not yet, at least_. Ginny thought as her gaze met Draco's across the clearing. He was leaning against a tree, watching her. When their eyes met he turned and walked away.

_Not yet_. Ginny thought again. She took one last deep breath of the clean night air and Apparated to her flat, a heavy feeling of guilt and curiousity twisting in her stomach.

She shuffled into her bedroom and collapsed on top of the covers, not bothering to get undressed.

It was the best sleep she'd ever had.

---OoOoOoO---

Go on, go on: Tell me how sick and twisted and wonderful and amazing I am. hehe! Review please! Sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes, my Word is being dumb so I have to write in the little document preview screen. Ta!


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